


to crumble in your hands again

by notslickchrome



Category: The Killers (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:22:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26227099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notslickchrome/pseuds/notslickchrome
Summary: Ronnie could tell you all the details about how he fell in love with the lead singer of a band he was once in, from the nights they had to the nights they didn't. He could tell you all of it.That band broke up in 2007.Ronnie figured that 10 years later, he would never see him again, especially not when he packed up his life and moved to a rural town in Utah.
Relationships: Brandon Flowers/Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

Ronnie sat on the floor of his Vegas apartment surrounded by boxes. Anything that made the space home was now packed and ready to be crammed in a pick-up truck, except for the box of old photos that sat in front of him, of course.

Ronnie hadn't seen those pictures in years-- a decade. He grimaced at the thought, describing anything as a decade made him feel a century old. He was amazed at the quality of the pictures he thumbed through as well as the quality of life he had. He had gone and traveled the world. They captured things from tourist hotspots in London to random fields in the midwest, he could still remember what he was up to when taking each photo. These memories he held in his heart fondly, but as he made his way further into the stack, he knew his heart would break in the same breath.

Just behind another picture of open fields was Brandon Flowers. How could Ronnie forget the name? If not the impact he made, it was the messy "Flowers, 2005" written on the back of the photo. The picture he was looking at wasn't even Brandon's best, it was just one of him on their first touring van, sat beside Ronnie in front of the camera, beer in hand and a smug grin painted across his baby pink lips. Ronnie felt beyond lame running his fingers across the glossed film, yet he did it anyway. Brandon's hair, Ronnie wondered if he were to ever see that mass of black wavy hair swoop over that face again.

Often, Ronnie also wondered if Brandon knew. If Brandon knew that someday Ronnie would be sitting on the floor staring at the pictures they took. If on the day the band decided to split, Brandon knew he needed him and that he was in love with him. At the time, he couldn't live without him, but obviously-- he could.

Quickly, he moved on to the next photo and then the next and then the next and then--

a smaller picture of Brandon fell from the stack. One that was cut to wallet size, Ronnie could have sobbed right then on the floor. If that photo could live in his heart, it did for three whole years. The closest it did to that was sitting in his wallet. The paper was worn from existing in such a used place, but Ronnie's memory of taking it didn't at all despite it being put away for so long.

It was about a year after the "Flowers, 2005" photo, and the band had moved up from a tour van to a tour bus. When they toured the west coast, they insisted they had to rent a campsite on the coast at least once, and they did because that's how Ronnie's life was back then, he could ask for anything and get it-- well, almost anything.

They had gotten to the campsite just before sunrise, Ronnie had trouble sleeping in the bunk and decided to get up and explore. In the process, he woke Brandon. At that point, they did everything together and Ronnie noticed that their bond was stronger than any other one in the band-- so of course, Brandon followed him out the bus and Ronnie expected it.

"Well, mornin' there, Bran," Ronnie spoke, feeling a bit odd to be speaking so early in the morning.

Brandon rubbed the sleep out of his eyes like a kid and mumbled a small and gentle good morning. Ronnie smiled fondly at him. He had changed so much since their last tour and Ronnie knew he loved him because, despite his long curls being gone and the presence of a squirrely mustache, he was still very attracted to him. 

"Whoa," Brandon rasped after rubbing his eyes, he cleared his throat and looked ahead, "the beach-- it's right there."

Ronnie had been too busy staring at Brandon to notice directly to his right was the Pacific Ocean. "Well shit," he spoke turning away from Brandon. He began walking towards the sand and Brandon followed closely behind. Ronnie took his shoes off and Brandon followed closely behind. Ronnie ran towards the water and Brandon followed closely behind. Ronnie had never felt more free and a piece of Brandon than right then.

Ronnie stood still, listening to the waves and Brandon laughing at their previous actions. "Why'd we have to run?" Brandon asked, catching his breath.

Ronnie didn't really have an answer for him, "I dunno just got excited."

Brandon pressed his hands against his hips and walked in front of Ronnie, staring out into the vastness of the ocean in front of them. The sunrise behind them had turned the sky three different colors that faded into the overwhelming blue. "This is gorgeous, I'm kind of glad you woke me up."

Brandon was the only person Ronnie would have ever wanted to experience such a sight with. "I'm glad too." The waves crashed in front of Brandon and Ronnie watched as the water fizzled under his feet. It was all so overwhelmingly peaceful that, at the moment, Ronnie didn't even consider how much it would mean to him and just like any other time, Ronnie reached for the film camera he carried around as much as he did his wallet and snapped a picture of Brandon looking out into the sky. Ronnie didn't even notice how beautiful that was until he was looking through all the pictures in his car in a CVS parking lot. 

Ronnie wished he could relive that moment as clearly as he could see the picture he held between his fingers. Over the years, he truly attempted to forget that man, he used to drink until he couldn't see, but in the end, he realized Brandon would always live, if not a part of himself, his brain at least. It wasn't a healthy way to live and even after a decade, Ronnie wasn't in a place to truly work on forgetting. So, he got up, walked over to his wallet that sat on an empty kitchen counter, and slipped the picture back into the pocket it lived years before.


	2. Chapter 2

The box of pictures was the last box to go to Ronnie's truck. He was surprised and relieved he could fit his whole life in one vehicle, all he had to do was drop off his keys and he was set.

One thing Ronnie missed most about Brandon, whether he thought about it every day as he used to or in passing as he did now, was how much Brandon loved Las Vegas. Ronnie could listen to Brandon talk about Vegas for hours, not only was it nice to hear Brandon talk about something he was in love with, but it was also nice to live in such a beautiful universe for a few hours. All he could ever want is to spin around and around with Brandon under the neon lights of downtown Vegas.

He always wondered why Brandon left and if it was because of him-- because Brandon knew and Brandon couldn't live in a city where he loved him, no matter how much Brandon loved the city itself. Such a thought hurt too much.

Ronnie set down his apartment keys at the front desk of his apartment complex.

"Moving out?" The receptionist asked fake nice, fake sadness.

"Yeah," he answered shortly.

"Well, we'll miss you here, have a good one."

Ronnie could have snorted, you'll miss my rent. "Yup, have a good one."

****

Crossing out of the Nevada state line was when it really hit for Ronnie. He was really doing it, he was leaving the place he lived in for the majority of his life and whether he thought about too heavily or not, he was also leaving the last place he knew Brandon.

It was good for him though, ultimately it would be good for him in Utah. Fewer people, less hustle, less pressure. Also, he could afford a backyard in Utah. Already, the speed limit dropping, the semi-trucks he passed, and the mountains calmed him down.

He didn't want to think about how Brandon grew up in Utah but a four-hour drive in a truck packed to the brim will do that. Brandon didn't speak about Utah as fondly as he did Nevada, nevertheless, he never spoke badly about it. When speaking of Utah, he usually spoke of his family, about his parents and his siblings. Ronnie always wanted to meet them and maybe thank them for contributing to such a wonderful person, but of course, it never happened.

If Brandon wasn't talking about his family in Utah, he was talking about how badly he wanted to get out of it when he was younger. It shocked Ronnie how young Brandon was when he decided to move out of his parent's house and live in Vegas, "sweet sixteen huh?" Ronnie would tease. "No wonder you're such a little rebel now."

So, there wasn't really a chance Ronnie would run into Brandon. Even if he was in the state to visit family, his family lived in a different city anyway. That's what Ronnie told himself at least, because hope was useless to him after a decade.

Ronnie glanced at the box. Over the years it had been easier to stop thinking about all the memories that lived there, but it was big events such as this one when Ronnie wondered if it would be happening if Brandon had still been in his life. What had his life been like if it was built with another person?

****

Ronnie could have gotten out of his truck and kissed the ground when he saw he was entering city limits of his new home. He took the first exit, pulled into the first restaurant he saw, and parked.

The first thing he noticed as he got out was the truck parked on the opposite side of the lot. The same model as his, just in a disgusting tacky bronze-orange color. He grimaced as he stretched, who would willingly drive such an ugly looking car? Quickly, he shook the thought, figuring that immediately judging what he would eventually call home was bad luck.

Ronnie felt lucky to have discovered that the random restaurant he pulled into was a simple diner. It had just enough familiarity to ease him into moving in. Ronnie also liked diners when they were touring, it gave him a sense of home no matter how far from what he considered home he was.

A hostess sat him at a table and Ronnie was able to find what he was looking for on the menu given to him.

Chicken tenders with a side of fries.

It was hard to fuck up chicken tenders. That's practically all he ate when touring and Brandon curiously did the same. Most of their conversations happened over late-night chicken tenders.

Ronnie ordered this with a glass of water. The most basic and satisfying meal anyone could ask for, the perfect way to start moving in. Once the waitress left, Ronnie had the time to think about how he was going to go about moving all his junk out his truck-- and not about Brandon.

About 15 minutes had passed before the waitress came out with two plates on her tray, both chicken tender meals. He grinned, who else was the basic bastard? After the waitress sat down his and he thanked her, he secretly watched to see where the other plate was going. Probably to some picky kid with sat his parents.

The waitress walked down two tables from Ronnie and sat the plate in front of a man all alone just like him. That's interesting, he thought, looking up to gauge who this man was.

His nose could have started bleeding right then and there. There's was no way, there couldn't be, right? Ronnie's mind was just playing tricks on him, he looked at the pictures too much and thought too much, the chances of Brandon Flowers sitting in the same diner as him two tables away in front of chicken tenders was impossible.

Ronnie fumbled for his wallet, appetite completely lost until he could confirm that the man he used to love with his whole being and then lost for a decade was not sitting in front of him. He took the beach picture out and stared at it before glancing back up at the man. Then back at the picture, then back at the man.

He really couldn't tell. Either way, the man was so sickeningly familiar.

Then, the man stared back at him directly and it hit him all at once.

"Um, m-ma'am can I get this to go and the check please," Ronnie coughed after flagging down the waitress frantically.

Even the waitress seemed concerned for him, "of course, right away."

"Thank you."

Ronnie stared down at his meal refusing to look anywhere else again. He couldn't even process what was making him so nervous, all he knew was that he needed to get out of there.

When the waitress finally set down a to-go box and check, Ronnie swore the man was still watching him and he had never so messily shoveled food into a container in his life. "Just go ahead and pay upfront," the waitresses informed as if she wasn't witnessing Ronnie's downfall.

He shoved the picture back into his wallet and slammed a five-dollar bill on the table before bolting to the counter upfront.

"Hello sir, how was everything today?" The cashier asked.

"Uhh," Ronnie could barely think as he ripped his credit card from his wallet, "great, I just--something came up so I--I have to take my meal home."

"Oh, that's too bad, hope you enjoy your meal anyway."

Just as his payment was approved, Ronnie could see the man get up from his seat.

The cashier started speaking, "Thank you, have a great--"

"Thanks!" Ronnie called, already halfway out the door. He practically sprinted to his truck, pulling at the driver side door, his heart sank.

He forgot his keys at the table.

He took a step back and looked up at the sky. Before he could have a full-on mental breakdown, someone tapped him on the shoulder. Slowly, Ronnie looked towards the tap and was met with what had given away who was sitting just two tables away from him.

Hazel eyes, a freckle on his nose, and the tiniest mole on his cheek.

"Brandon?" Ronnie whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

Brandon looked like he already knew. Like he knew before Ronnie and way before Ronnie pulled into the parking lot. "You forgot your keys...Ronnie."

Ronnie carefully took them from him, being careful not to brush fingers as that could have sent him into space.

"So um," Brandon coughed, "what're you doing in Utah?"

"I live here now-- I'm just moving in."

Ronnie was waiting for the sky to rip open and he would finally wake up, but no matter how much he told himself to, he stayed standing there, Brandon a decade later right in front of him.

"Oh," Brandon spoke softly, crossing his arms and looking down. Ronnie watched, realizing it really was the same person from 10 years ago standing in front of him. Same pouty expression, same furrowed eyebrows, same baby pink lips. He was just older, maybe skinnier.

Ronnie could have just stood there all day, but he couldn't think of the words he wanted to say. 

"I missed you"? "Where have you been"? "Why are you here"? "Why did you leave"?

Before he could even start, Brandon looked up and just threw himself around Ronnie. He felt broader in his arms, more solid than the Brandon he used to hold so, so long ago. It just felt like a dream, so like in any lucid dream, Ronnie did what he wanted to do and squeezed Brandon as tight as anyone would if they knew when the woke up, the person they had lost for a decade and were holding in their arms would disappear.

"I never thought I'd see you again," Brandon murmured into Ronnie's shoulder. Brandon was the first to let go, of course. Then they were both just standing there again, still shocked to be in each others' presence.

Suddenly, Brandon furrowed his eyebrows angrily and chucked a punch right at Ronnie's shoulder. Surely, if it was a dream Ronnie would have woken but by then. "Why--why didn't you ever call me?!" Brandon exclaimed.

"I didn't know your phone number! I didn't know where you went! It's not like you're all over the Internet either!" Ronnie grunted, soothing his shoulder. Brandon had definitely gotten stronger since they last got in a scuffle. "You also never called me."

Brandon turned his gaze to the ground again, face scrunched up in a half confused half frustrated expression. "I just can't believe you're fucking here. I thought I lost my best friend forever."

Ronnie's heart stammered, "I was your best friend?"

"Of course you were," Brandon looked up, "we did everything together. You were like family to me. When the band split, I swore we were going to stick together-- and then we just didn't."

Ronnie paused. So Brandon didn't cut him off on purpose. Neither of them cut each other off on purpose. "I'm sorry," Ronnie spoke barely above a whisper.

Brandon shook his head, bringing his gaze to the ground again, "don't be sorry, it was my fault too, I should have tried too." He lifted his head to make eye contact with Ronnie again and as he smiled, it felt as though Ronnie could feel the sun again. "We found each other, though. We have each other now, and I'm not gonna let you leave again-- wait right here."

To Ronnie's horror, Brandon started walking towards the tacky orange truck he saw earlier. Of course, he thought, who else would drive something like that.

It was amusing how tiny Brandon was compared to his truck. Even if Ronnie hadn't been around for the past ten years, he knew that idea probably would piss Brandon off. Their height difference was always something Ronnie liked to tease Brandon about.

Brandon came back with a piece of paper and a pen. As he stood in front of Ronnie, he started scribbling something down, balancing the paper on his thigh. Just in that small moment, Ronnie was learning new things about him. The way he poked his tongue out, the lines coming down from his nose, the crinkles by his eyes, the way his hair swirled above his ears with small patches of gray visible. Ten years may have taken Brandon away from Ronnie but it seemed it also gave him more to love.

"Here," Brandon said, finishing writing, "this is my number. Don't be a stranger."

Ronnie smiled, "you know you could have just put it in my phone right?"

Brandon brought his hand to his forehead in a bit of embarrassment, "that completely slipped my mind. You know, maybe we would've stayed in contact if I were a little more technologically advanced."

"It's alright," Ronnie took out his phone and dialed the number. Brandon's phone started buzzing his pocket, Ronnie hung up. "There, now you have my number."

Brandon smiled again, each time he did Ronnie's world felt a little less dull. "Talk to you later, Ronnie, my plate's getting cold and the waitress probably thinks I'm dining and dashing."

Ronnie chuckled, "talk to you later."

Totally unexpected to Ronnie, Brandon quickly wrapped his arms around him again. The hug was quick but far more than Ronnie could ever ask for.

****

Ronnie could not tell you how he got from the diner to his new home. All he knew as he drove those new roads was that he drove them with the ability to reach Brandon at any time. He couldn't fathom that he no longer needed to wonder what he was up to, or where he went, or what he looked like-- he had just been there minutes ago, right in front of him. 

He pulled into his new driveway and as if in a dream, casually stepped out of his truck and stepped up to the front door. He found himself gripping at the new keys as though to check if he was dreaming again, but as he unlocked the door, he realized he was not. All he could do was sit in the middle of the empty space in front of him, taking his phone out and occasionally looking at the new number he had acquired. 

Brandon's number still had a Nevada area code, as though time hadn't torn through their knowledge of each other at all. As much as Ronnie swore that they lived in different worlds for the past ten years, Brandon's area code alone said otherwise. He was right there all along.


	4. Chapter 4

Over the week, Ronnie would slowly unload and unpack his belongings. Though Ronnie was slowly finding problems with the house, it felt more at home than his apartment had ever been. Of course, every day Ronnie contemplated calling Brandon, the paper with his number in handwriting was taped to the fridge, and sometimes Ronnie would just sit and stare at it. He realized, though, that he needed to hold off for a bit, play it cool. They barely knew each other anymore and Ronnie didn't want to scare him off.

Ronnie figured he'd be the first to call, but as he was building his first piece of furniture, he found that he was wrong. As juvenile as Ronnie felt it was, his heart soar at the sight of Brandon's name flickering upon his phone screen. "Hello?" He answered almost immediately.

"Hey, Ronnie! Just checking in to see how you're doing, how's moving in been?" Brandon replied.

"It's been good, it's all been really good."

"Great! You think you're ready for me to come over? I got you a little house warming gift."

Ronnie placed his hand over his mouth and closed his eyes for a second. After passing his feelings like gas, he spoke again, "I'd love for you to come over! I'll send you the address and just stop by whenever."

"Okay, I'll stop by right now, just tell me your address right now and I'll figure it out."

Right now? "Oh, okay, that sounds good," Ronnie cleared his throat then began giving out his address.

"You've got to be kidding," Brandon laughed.

Ronnie slightly panicked, "what?"

"I live about three blocks down the road."

Ronnie could have passed out, "what? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Brandon laughed again, "dead serious! Well, see you soon neighbor." He hung up and Ronnie just laid on the floor.

They lived three blocks away from each other.

How was there once ten years between them and then just three blocks? They didn't even live three blocks from each other when they were still in the band.

Before Ronnie knew it, Brandon was at his door and he had the responsibility of getting off his ass and answering. Ronnie wasn't sure how long it was going to feel like a dream being around Brandon and it certainly still stayed strong as they stood there in front of each other, just grinning at each other.

"How's it goin'?" Brandon asked.

"Good!" Ronnie smiled, and it was good because he was there. "Come on in."

Brandon bashfully stepped in, "well, look at you, finally getting a house, I thought you were going to live in that bachelor pad back in Vegas forever."

"Oh no, that would've been awful, I needed-- I needed somewhere I could breathe, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it-- if anyone gets it's me."

Ronnie raised an eyebrow, "your house in Vegas was huge."

"Yeah, well, I still felt like I was suffocating back there," he spoke and as Ronnie began walking into his kitchen, he followed. "After the band split, I just wanted to be outside all the time and I was tired of driving out of town just to do that."

Ronnie sat at his kitchen table, "sorry, don't have any furniture out there yet, this is it."

"It's alright," Brandon reassured and took a seat across from him.

"You never struck me as an outdoorsman."

"I wasn't when we were in the band, I only started getting into hiking when I decided I needed to focus on my health more." A guilty look suddenly washed over Brandon's face, he grimaced. "I was really going downhill at the end there."

Ronnie remembered. Of course, he remembered, he remembered everything about Brandon. Though he loved everything about Brandon, it was hard to love some of the things he had been doing at the end of the band. He didn't love knowing Brandon was still high after the shows, he didn't love picking him up and taking him to bed after he had drunk too much, he didn't love sitting next to him while he chained smoked cigarettes, he didn't love never seeing a single piece of vegetable touch his lips-- but he still loved him through it all. It had been a conflict for Ronnie, he knew to truly love Brandon, he needed to be there no matter what, but did that mean letting him destroy himself?

It didn't matter, because now Brandon was sitting in front of him at his kitchen table, red flannel rolled up to show that even his forearms were made of pure muscle, talking about hiking.

"I'm so happy for you, man," Ronnie smiled, hoping that adding "man" at the end of his sentence would hide the love he felt but not the genuine admiration.

Brandon shot back a proud smile, "thanks, you should join me one day, there're some places around here I think you'd love."

"Okay, yeah, that sound's great. Just let me know when."

"So...what have you been up to?"

"Oh-- well," Ronnie had to think. What had Ronnie been up to? Besides missing Brandon and waiting for the checks their albums had still been bringing in, not much. "I'm still working on music here and there, joined a couple other bands a few years after, nothing like what we were."

Brandon nodded, "yeah, I've had a few projects going, but I still kind of miss us."

Ronnie wanted it to take "us" as him and Brandon working together, but he knew Brandon meant the original four. "I do too. I think if it were up to me, we'd still be going."

Brandon smiled sadly, "I just wish I would have done something different, been a little less stubborn-- done a little less coke."

"Sorry," Ronnie quickly apologized, immediately feeling guilty for what he had said, "the band," he took a deep breath, "I know the band was killing you." That fact had been hard to admit. Everything that Ronnie watched Brandon do to hurt himself linked itself to the band.

"No, don't apologize, it wasn't the band, it was me, everything was my fault, I didn't have to do all those things I did, I didn't have to lead us to the end like that--"

Ronnie had to stop him there, "no, none of that was your fault, none of it was you, y-you were so young and under so much pressure-- and really it was killing all four of us, not just you," he just had to be transparent with Brandon, "truthfully, the only reason why I say I wish the band was still together is that the band was the only time we were together."

Brandon bit his lip, which was one of the last things Ronnie expected to have his heart drop at. He still bit his lip when he was uncomfortable. "I think that's what I mean when I say that too." That agreement led both of them to just sit in silence for a moment. "We don't need it anymore though, we found each other again, that's all that matters."

Ronnie couldn't help but smile at that, "you're right."

Brandon took another deep breath, "so, do you talk to the other two?"

"Just Mark."

"I talk to Dave from time to time."


	5. Chapter 5

Despite it all, Ronnie and Mark somehow stayed in touch after the band. It felt as necessary to Ronnie for them to as it did for him to stay in touch with Brandon. Maybe more. They hadn't even been that close throughout the first four years of the band, it was just in the last moments that they both needed someone to fall apart to.

Ronnie first cracked right in the middle of their last tour, when things had just started going south for the band. It was an ungodly hour in the morning when he found Mark just sitting in the commons of the tour bus, reading in complete silence. It had been a bit jarring for Ronnie to find him there, or any person at all for that matter. He had just carried Brandon to bed after watching him vomit for far too long and all he wanted was a place he could cry in peace.

Ronnie just stood where the bus separated into bunks, staring at him, and when Mark finally looked up, he spoke the words that would send Ronnie right off the edge, "is he okay?" All Ronnie could do was sit next to him, bury his face in his hands, and sob. He sobbed so hard, he was afraid he'd wake up the bus. Mark had always been closed off and a bit moody, so Ronnie didn't know how he'd react to him absolutely falling apart, he definitely wasn't expecting his long arms to wrap around him as they did.

Ronnie didn't want to come out in such a way, he didn't want to come out at all, but as Mark was holding him, murmuring how things were going to be okay, he felt he had to. All Ronnie had the capability to sputter out was, "I love him," over and over again.

"Ronnie, I know, we all do," Mark whispered, pulling Ronnie up out of the ball he was starting to curl in and up so that his head was buried into his shoulder.

"No," Ronnie heaved out, finally finding a way to be more coherent, "no, not in the way you all do, I love him." Ronnie found a pause before sobbing again to explain what that meant, "I'm bi-- or gay -- whatever, I'm just-- I just know that I'm in love with him."

That had been the first time Ronnie had ever come out and told anyone how he felt. He expected Mark to end him and the band right there, but instead, he just held him tighter and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"For what? Being gay or --"

"No, not being gay, that's fine, for loving Brandon."

From then on, that had been the attitude Mark had towards Ronnie and Brandon's relationship. He never cared that Ronnie was gay, he just thought that he deserved better than Brandon. When Ronnie asked why he thought that way, Mark had the same answer even after the band had parted ways, "he's just a goddamned mess." So, needless to say, Mark didn't have any reason to help Ronnie find Brandon in the ten years they occasionally spoke, but he was still the first person Ronnie told when he found Brandon again.

Past the initial shock, Mark quickly became the voice of reason. It almost frustrated Ronnie how unenthusiastic Mark was, but the points he was making weren't wrong. Points like, "how do you know he's doing any better?", "What if he's changed for the worst?", "You barely know him now." Instead of admitting that he was right, Ronnie just responded with, "Jesus, Mark, can you spare a minute to be happy?"

Mark just dryly laughed and said, "no."

That was the end of the conversation. The rest was about moving and maybe meeting up with each other someday, things they usually talked about, as if the man Ronnie had been missing for ten years wasn't back in his life.

"I miss Mark," Brandon spoke softly, placing his laced hands on the table. Ronnie couldn't help but look at those hands. The way Brandon fidgeted with his fingers was something he looked at when he didn't want to be listening to an interviewer or a manager's lecture or anything, really.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Ronnie asked, knowing that Brandon probably wanted something else to fidget with.

"Yes please," Brandon responded.

"Is water okay?"

"Water would be great."

Brandon continued tugging at his fingers, attempting to pop them over and over. Ronnie finally looked away as he grabbed a glass and filled it with water. "Hope tap is alright with you, haven't got around to buying a filter."

Brandon chuckled, "it's okay."

Ronnie set the glass gently in front of him and sat back down across from him.

"Thank you," Brandon spoke with a slight nod before taking a sip. "Anyway, how is he? Mark."

"He's good, got his degree, traveled abroad, and now he's between California and Italy a lot."

"Good for him."

"How's Dave?"

"He's doing good too, he's got a wife and kid down in San Diego."

"Huh."

"Huh? Why 'huh'?"

"Oh, he never struck me as a fatherly figure."

Ronnie used to butt heads with Dave more than the others. Dave seemed to enable Brandon and Brandon seemed to enable him -- and it didn't help that if anyone in the band were to take Brandon away from him, it would have been Dave.

"Yeah, having a kid really changed him, inspiring to watch, really," Brandon said.

"I bet."

Brandon passed his glass from hand to hand, "I won't lie, I'm kind of jealous of him."

"You are?"

Brandon sighed and looked away, "I love it here, but it gets so lonely, sometimes I go days without seeing anyone."

Ronnie cleared his throat, "well, I'm here now if that means anything."

Brandon smiled, "yes, that does -- I just wish I had, like, I don't know a romantic partner." He mocked himself as he said, "romantic partner."

"Ah, I get that."

"Do you have anyone? Anyone you left in Vegas?"

"Nope, nobody since we met." Ronnie blushed, wishing he hadn't said that last part.

Brandon just simply smirked, "that's alright, neither have I -- I guess we'll just have to do with each other. We were practically married in the band."

Boy was Ronnie glad he had a beard, he hoped it was covering the ever-growing red spreading across his face. "You really think that?"

"Oh yeah! We slept in the same bed, we did everything together, hell, we saw each other naked quite a bit -- we were basically married without the sex and love I guess."

If only he knew.

****

"What's going on in here?" Brandon asked once they finally stepped out of the kitchen. He was referring to the half-built futon.

"Ah, I was in the middle of that when you called me," Ronnie sighed.

"I can help you out?"

Ronnie shrugged, "be my guest."

They both sat on the floor in front of the incomplete chair and looked over the instructions. It blew Ronnie's mind that they were able to interact with that. Not even a month ago, he was mourning that he would never get the chance to do simple tasks with Brandon ever again, but there they were, knelt in front of each other, Ronnie watching carefully as Brandon flipped through the booklet.

"You also never struck me as a handyman," Ronnie grinned as Brandon began to get to work.

Brandon laughed back, "I'm not, and I definitely wasn't when we were in the band, I had to learn a lot."

Together, Brandon and Ronnie were able to set up the futon within 30 minutes. In those 30 minutes, Ronnie was starting to think nothing Mark said was right. Brandon was still as pleasant to be around as he was years ago, being with him just felt like picking up where they left off. If anything, everything felt better, they were both sober and healthy, Ronnie happier than he had ever been.

"Oh shoot! I almost forgot to give you your gift!" Brandon exclaimed after they had talked some more after finishing the futon. "Let me head out to my truck and get it," he stood, "I'll be back."

As soon as Brandon walked out the door, a child-like uncontrollable grin spread across Ronnie's face. He buried his face in his hands to cover up such an embarrassing expression of happiness.

"He's back," he whispered under his breath, "he's back, he's back, he's back!" He slid hands down and covered his mouth. Not only was Brandon back but Ronnie still loved him. He wasn't sure if he'd still feel the same after so many years, but despite how much had changed, despite how much they aged and looked different, despite the fact that they weren't in Vegas anymore, Ronnie could still find all the qualities he fell in love with previously. He was still shy, he still spoke softly and chose his words carefully, he still fidgeted with his hands and made intense eye contact when they spoke, he still whispered his jokes and giggled softly at himself--

Brandon returned, snapping Ronnie from his thoughts. He had his arms cradled around a large plant, "um, a little help here," Brandon chuckled.

Ronnie stood up, "Jesus, Brandon, what is this?"

"Your house warming gift! I thought you could use something to liven up the house!"

Ronnie took the plant from Brandon and sat it down in front of the nearest window. "Well, thank you, Brandon," Ronnie sighed with a smile, "I love it."

"Good! It's called a peace lily, they're really easy to take care of, just water it every once in a while and keep it here in front of the window."

Ronnie could have kissed Brandon right then, but he knew it was irrational. He still didn't even know if he liked guys, he had a small inclining when they were still in the band, but the broad-flannel-wearing man in front of him changed that. His unchanged soft baby-pink lips could have pushed that all aside, though.

"Well, I'd better get going," Brandon sighed, "it was nice to see you, Ron."

"It's always nice to see you, Brandon," Ronnie replied slowly.

Brandon smiled widely and threw his arms around him as he had in the parking lot where they found each other. This hug might've been tighter, Ronnie could feel Brandon's stubble on his neck, and he felt it proved they were growing closer. Ronnie could've melted completely at such a feeling, he missed it so much.

They let go of each other, "since we know we live so close," Brandon spoke, "stop by whenever, I'm not up to much."

"Same here," Ronnie responded.

Brandon hugged Ronnie again, this time burying his face in Ronnie's neck. "Sorry, you're a good hugger."

There was not a single sentence Ronnie could produce that wouldn't let onto the past ten years, so he just accepted the affection.


	6. Chapter 6

Ronnie woke up to a text from Brandon the following morning that simply said, "Hey, wanna go on a hike with me?" It was seven o'clock, normally Ronnie would have slept for at least three more hours, but like the fool he was, he responded with, "yes," no hesitation at all.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he slowly sat up and took a deep breath. What was he even going to wear? The closest thing he had done to hiking in years was pick up his mail.

Eventually, he stopped overthinking it and dressed as he normally would. He checked his phone and saw that five minutes previously, Brandon had responded to his text with, "awesome! Pick you up in 20." Ronnie figured he'd pass the next 15 minutes by making coffee, something he needed anyway.

The sun had just risen, he noticed. If it hadn't been Brandon who got him up, he would have definitely canceled. He stood at his counter, watching as the coffee drained slowly into a thermos he hadn't used for as long as he hasn't been on a hike. As he did, he wondered how Brandon took his coffee after so much time had passed. He could remember that back in the day, Brandon took his coffee with so much cream and so much sugar that it was barely coffee.

Ronnie screwed the lid shut and head to his living room where he sat at the futon he still couldn't believe existed because of the hands of both his and Brandon's. Across the room sat the plant Brandon gave him, its big leaves still upright and shiny. Ronnie wondered what about himself that Brandon saw could take care of another living thing, if Ronnie knew anything about himself, the thing would be dead in a month.

Ronnie checked the time, Brandon was to arrive in five minutes. All Ronnie could do with himself was sit and think. He was going to be all alone with Brandon again-- he needed to show some restraint. He knew that logically he needed to learn more about Brandon and catch up on what he missed, immediately professing the love he hid for over a decade was not the move.

Ronnie heard a knock and was very quick to answer it. As much as he didn't want to, he couldn't help but greet Brandon with a soft smile. "Good morning," Brandon grinned back.

"Mornin'," Ronnie sighed, "so you're a morning person now, huh?"

Brandon shrugged, "trails are always empty in the morning-- and isn't the sunrise beautiful?" He spun around and Ronnie stepped out next to him. He shut his front door and locked it before settling his eyes to wherever Brandon was looking.

Indeed, the sunrise was beautiful. A variety of colors was showcased and if it were ten years ago, Ronnie would have certainly snapped a picture of it with a little bit of Brandon. "Damn, wish I had a camera."

"You have your phone don't you?" Brandon retorted.

"Well, yeah, but that's not the same."

Brandon chuckled softly, "still a photography snob, I see."

"I'm not a snob, I just respect the art."

"Sure," Brandon chuckled, rolling his eyes.

Ronnie knew he should've been at least pretend annoyed at Brandon, but it was so nice to be teased by him again. "Alright, alright, what do you have in-store woodsman Flowers?"

Brandon started towards his truck, "you'll see."

****

About ten miles outside of city limits, Brandon's radio cut out. "Hey man, how do I know you're not gonna kill me?" Ronnie joked.

Brandon giggled, "I'm not! We're almost there, it's just a little bit of a drive, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, but this shit better be pretty."

"It will be!"

Soon Brandon was pulling up next to a self-service national park center. Ronnie watched as Brandon stepped out of his truck, took a slip, and began filling it out on his knee just as he wrote done his phone number for Ronnie a week ago. When he was done he tore the stub off and reached for his wallet, which he pulled a five-dollar bill from. Brandon slipped that as well as what he had filled out into an envelope and pushed it in the slot labeled "pay here."

In the meantime, other cars had passed them by. "Why'd you pay if you didn't have to?" Ronnie asked as Brandon got back in and placed the stub he kept in the corner of his windshield.

Brandon shrugged, "it's just five bucks, helps keep 'em running I assume."

Ronnie just wanted to throw himself over the center console and kiss Brandon right then, he missed the kind of empathy Brandon contained so much. Instead, he pulled himself together and tried to take in the scenery.

"So, do you come up here often?" Ronnie asked.

"Not really, to be honest, I usually go somewhere closer to home, but I wanted to show you something nice."

Ronnie knew he had gone too long without human interaction when he began to turn red at that. "Gee, thanks."

The road began to thin as they found themselves further into the park. Eventually, Brandon pulled into a totally empty parking lot.

"Damn, there really is no one here," Ronnie noted the obvious.

"Just the way I like it, can't stand awkwardly greeting people as we pass each other on the trails. I just want to be alone with my thoughts."

With that, they both hopped out of the truck. Brandon grabbed a backpack from his backseat and started walking towards a trail.

"Hope we're not doing anything strenuous, all I've had to eat today is coffee," Ronnie sighed.

Brandon giggled, "don't worry, I won't make you work too hard."

Just as Brandon said that, the dirt path turned into an incline. Ronnie wasn't going to complain, though. He desperately needed the time with Brandon, even if that meant exercise on a cup of coffee.

A noticeable change to Ronnie was that he was following Brandon rather than the other way around. Usually, when they escaped on tour Ronnie would always be looking back to check if Brandon was still behind him. He always was.

Brandon's change in physique was also more noticeable when they were active. Ronnie really tried not to note they way Brandon's calve muscles bulged with each upward climb, but alas, he was. He was so distracted by that, he almost didn't notice the ugly hiking boots Brandon was wearing. Almost. He would never pass up the chance to poke fun of Brandon.

"What are these, Brandon?" Ronnie snickered, kicking at Brandon's heels.

"Hey!" Brandon yipped, keeping himself from stumbling.

"Well, what are they?"

"They're boots, duh."

"Ugly ones."

"They're comfortable and practical -- meanie."

Ronnie was glad to be following from behind because he definitely didn't want Brandon to see him melt at his inability to be mean back. "I'm just messing with you, Brans, you can pull anything off," Ronnie chuckled, recovering.

****

"Ugh, are we almost there? My feet fucking hurt," Ronnie groaned what must have mile into the hike, but felt like fifty to him.

"We're close! The view is worth it, don't worry," Brandon reassured.

Ronnie honestly didn't mind too much. He was learning so much about Brandon's life after they parted ways that even if his feet blistered into hell, it was worth it.

It had turned out, Brandon had been living in Utah six of the ten years they had spent apart. The first four years he spent trying to get sober in Vegas but eventually realized he needed to get away and find a healthier alternative. He enjoyed the small amount of hiking he had done in Vegas and figured Utah was the place to do it. He also wanted to get closer to his family like he wasn't able to while they were touring.

"I think they only thing I missed about Vegas and touring and all that shit was you," Brandon stated as they jogged downhill. Both of them realized what he had said and widened their eyes a bit. "--And Mark," Brandon added. Before Ronnie could add on, Brandon abruptly stopped and turned, "well, here we are!"

Ronnie looked up and caught the most gorgeous view of a mountain he had ever seen. "Holy shit, Brandon," he spoke, standing next to him.

"I told you it'd be worth it."

"Damn, now I really wish I had my camera."

For a second Brandon was looking at him rather than the view, which made him oddly nervous. "It's cool you're still into photography, it's always nice to see something that hasn't been destroyed by 'The Killers'."

Ronnie inhaled, "do you regret it?" He didn't know if he should have saved the question or if there was a better time to ask it-- or if there was a better time at all.

Brandon sighed, "not really. It was the best time of my life but also the worst."


	7. Chapter 7

Ronnie always hated how he left Brandon. He still remembered the last day of the tour in 2007, he still remembered having to drum and create the beat that Brandon was high to. All he could do was watch Brandon strut back and forth on stage, on a different plane of existence. When he took out his monitors, he could hear the audience cheer for them, for Brandon, and he knew not a single one of them could see that Brandon was destroying himself.

Ronnie ended the show with a long solo he could barely remember. All he could remember was stepping off the platform and following Dave backstage and then just seeing Brandon collapsed barely five feet behind the curtains.

He had to hysterically call 911 and everyone else he knew. He had been so hysterical, Dave and Mark had to physically drag him to the bus. There, Ronnie had reached his breaking point and in-between sobs screamed, "it's over! It's fucking over! We can't keep doing this, we can't keep doing this to him!" That had actually been of the things he and Dave had instantly agreed on.

Ronnie still had nightmares of that night. Nightmares where no one would answer his calls and he had to watch Brandon die in front of him. Nightmares where he never got the call that Brandon made it through the night they all went home and canceled the rest of the tour. Nightmares where Brandon collapsed on stage and the crowd kept cheering and he couldn't do anything.

Ronnie starred out at the mountain range in front of him. That was all over and Brandon was standing next to him, healthier than ever, yet he couldn't stop thinking about it. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry for the worst parts of your life."

Brandon shrugged, "I'm just glad to have survived it -- and you don't have to be sorry. None of it was your fault, you're the one who looked after me. If anyone is supposed to be sorry here, it's me, I knew what I was doing was hurting you too, but I kept doing it."

"You should never be sorry, I would have always been there," Ronnie shook his head, biting off the "because I love you" from his tongue, "because you looked after me too."

Ronnie watched carefully as Brandon smiled softly. Ronnie had noticed that Brandon smiled a lot more. He remembered back in the day he used to get into so much shit just to make Brandon laugh-- but as they stood, it didn't take much, which brought Ronnie so much joy.

Brandon let out a slight laugh and shook his head, "I can't believe how much I've missed you," he spoke, "I never noticed how quiet it was up here, how lonely it is, and now you're here and, well, damn, just hearing you move is nice."

Ronnie just wanted to wrap his arms around Brandon and pull him to the ground so they could just mend into the dirt together. They could just become part of the mountain. Instead, Ronnie snorted, "yeah, well, I'm glad to keep you company again."

****

"Fuck," Ronnie groaned out, being more glad to see Brandon's tacky orange truck than he ever thought he would.

Brandon laughed, passing by him, not in any pain at all.

"I am so out of shape," Ronnie sighed, keeling over and placing his hands on his knees to rest for a second. Brandon's ugly boots stepped into Ronnie's field of vision and for a second he couldn't help and think again about how Brandon's younger self would react. Before he could let out a laugh though, he felt Brandon's hand gently rest on his back. He sharply exhaled and sat up as he felt the graze of Brandon's fingertips against his spine. 

"Oh, shit, sorry, did I hurt you or something?" Brandon asked with a slight panic in his voice.

Ronnie shook his head, "no, no, I was just, uh--" he needed to come up with something quick, "just so disgusted by your boots for younger you."

Brandon smiled and rolled his eyes, "you're so mean, I forgot how much you just bully me."

They made their way back to Brandon's truck, "Hey, do you wanna get breakfast real quick? You're probably hungry," Brandon said as they settled in.

"Sure, I could eat," Ronnie replied, absolutely delighted to continue his day with Brandon.

****

The two ended up at the diner they found each other at. "Hmm, you really like this diner don't you," Ronnie spoke as they stepped out of Brandon's truck.

"Yeah! It's my favorite, actually, they have the best breakfast. Reminds me of all the late-night places we used to eat at back in the day."

It was nice to know that Brandon held onto some of the same memories that he did. For all Ronnie knew, Brandon could have forgotten everything they had together. It all could have been a strange scuff mark on his life and could have faded to unimportance-- but it hadn't.

A different host sat them, but the same waitress took their orders. "Well, well, look who decided to sit together," she smirked.

"You'll never believe it, Darlene, he's--" Brandon was giggling in the middle of his words, an unexpected gleam in his eyes, "he's an old buddy of mine from years ago! Never thought I'd see him again, but there he was in the same diner as me!"

"Oh, that's neat, Mr.Flowers," Darlene grinned. She was young, maybe 17 or 18. Ronnie noted this because she had such an old fashioned, small town name. Utah was weird. She turned her attention on Ronnie, "well if y'all knew each other then--" she stopped herself. Ronnie could feel himself blushing, then why did he run out of the place like it was on fire? Ronnie wish he could tell her, but in that moment it seemed they both came to the understanding that it wasn't to be spoken. "Anyway, can I get you the usual Mr.Flowers?"

"Yes, please."

"Coffee, the American platter, and a side of two pancakes?"

"Yup!"

Darlene turned her attention back onto Ronnie again, "what'll you have, sir-- or do you need more time?"

"Uh, no, I'll just have what he's having."

"Sounds good, how do you want your eggs?"

"Over-easy." 

"Alrighty, I'll have that right out for you two." She took their menus and disappeared.

Ronnie and Brandon locked eyes with each other. "It's nice to have some company eating again," Brandon spoke, folding his hands onto the table.

Ronnie smiled, "I think it's just nice to have company again."

"And a friend again?"

"--And a friend again."


	8. Chapter 8

It was a very simple meal. Two eggs, hash browns, two pieces of bacon, and then two pancakes on the side. Ronnie did wonder if his and Brandon's preference for simplicity was a result of their ruthless tours, it certainly was in his case. Not that it mattered anyway, Brandon looked happy, which was more than he could have ever asked for after finding him again.

"Still haven't taken a liking to raw egg, huh?" Ronnie said, raising his eyebrows at Brandon's scrambled eggs.

Brandon grimaced, "absolutely not, the texture of raw eggs is still disgusting." He nodded towards Ronnie's plate, "do you still hate bacon?"

"A little, yeah."

Before Brandon could say anything more, Ronnie took his fork and scraped the two slices from his to Brandon's plate. This was something Ronnie would always do back in the day, mostly because Brandon needed the extra fat and protein.

"Thank you," Brandon spoke softly.

"No problem."

****

Ronnie's friendship with Brandon was more than he could have ever asked for. Ronnie couldn't have begun to picture his current friendship with Brandon just a few months ago. Firstly, he severely underestimated how much Brandon enjoyed hiking as he went nearly every day and Ronnie joined every single time. Secondly, while they did that, it never felt like Brandon took away any time. Each moment they spent together felt useful. Some days when they were in the band, though Ronnie loved Brandon to the ends of the earth, spending time with him sometimes felt draining. As good as it all seemed on the surface, this scared Ronnie. 

It felt like Ronnie loved Brandon more than he had before.

In Utah, Ronnie knew Brandon a fraction of what he did in the band, yet he loved him more. How was that even possible? It was confusing. Ronnie could even pinpoint exactly when stopped struggling with the little amount he knew of Brandon and just accepted that he loved him again. It was possibly the last nice day until next summer and Brandon wanted to go on a "special" hike with a surprise at the end. 

As Ronnie got dressed for the hike, he joked with himself all day that the surprise was going to be Brandon finally giving himself to him. Why the hell not? It seemed like all they had in their town was each other.

As ridiculous as it was, the one thing that hinted that Ronnie went back to loving Brandon again was the hiking boots Ronnie purchased. They were the same chunky pair Brandon had and Ronnie relentlessly made fun of. "They are comfortable! You were right!" Ronnie argued to both himself and Brandon. Sure they were, but there were much more normal-looking boots in the shoe store that were probably just as comfortable. Ronnie just purchased those ones because he trusted Brandon so much and listened and considered everything he spoke. 

Ronnie strapped on his ugly boots and headed outside his house where Brandon and his truck were parked. "How are we doing this morning?" Brandon asked.

Ronnie sighed, "tired, you know this." As much as Brandon forced Ronnie to wake up early each morning, he was never going to be a morning person. 

"It'll be worth it!" Brandon exclaimed driving off. "It's always worth it."

The drive was a little further than their usual travels. Even further than the first hike. Ronnie knew it was the real deal when Brandon pulled out his phone and started a route on Google Maps.

"Two hours from home, huh?" Ronnie cooed looking at the estimated arrival. "This really is special."

"Of course it is, this might be our last continuous hike of the year," Brandon sighed.

"That won't mean we won't hang out anymore right?" Ronnie chuckled half-jokingly, half in a panic. 

"Of course not," Brandon giggled, "we'd just have to hang out in each other's houses." 

Upon their arrival, Ronnie noticed that it was an even 80 degrees, a whole five degrees warmer than their hometown. "I'm gonna be soaked after this, Flowers," Ronnie sighed. 

"I hope so," Brandon spoke both briefly and sinisterly. 

As someone who grossly attracted to Brandon Flowers, all Ronnie could think was, "what the fuck?" 

"This'll be a long one, so be prepared." 

Ronnie simply sighed in response and they began their five-mile journey. Which, even five-mile journies were never bad with Brandon. Ronnie could walk for days observing Brandon taking in the world around him, sometimes amazed, sometimes grateful, sometimes a simple deep breath. 

The end of the journey led to a sizable lake. They both quietly took in the mountainous scenery just in the background of the said lake for a moment before Brandon spoke again. "I was thinking we should go swimming," he said. 

Ronnie nearly choked, "I didn't even bring shorts, Brandon."

"Oh c'mon, Ron, we've seen each other naked."

That statement was true, they saw each other naked an ungodly amount of times when they were touring together. However, Ronnie wasn't sure how he'd react to Brandon's new body. Not necessarily improved, but it was clear that Brandon was more in tune and confident in it. Before Ronnie could even get a filler statement out, Brandon was stripping off his shirt. "Brandon, I'm not sure we shou--" he paused completely, watching as Brandon's back muscles move as they became exposed him. 

Ronnie looked up at the sky and exhaled a deep breath as Brandon undid his pants and tugged them down. "Well, don't leave me standing here in my underwear," Brandon teased.

Ronnie shook his head and in a split second, decided that if he couldn't get undressed in front of Brandon then, how could he if they were ever actually intimate? He began undressing and Brandon let out a slight cheer, that would probably be the most excited Brandon would ever be watching him undress. 

They looked at each other for a moment. Brandon was so physically different than what Ronnie had ever seen before, he could barely move. "You're beautiful, you are so beautiful, you're perfect, you could be a god," were the thoughts that ran through Ronnie's head and he fought to keep there. Brandon sent him back a wholesome grin before running into the water. Ronnie followed with no hesitation.

"Remember when we used to sneak off at night to our hotel pools?" Brandon panted, wiping the water from his face as they grew accustomed to the water.

"Yeah," Ronnie replied treading closer to him, "Dave would ruin everything by then end of the night, getting in too drunk."

Brandon nodded, "well, I guess it's just us now."

At first, Ronnie didn't even notice how they both froze to just look at each other again. They were typically alone together most of the time but floating there in that lake, stripped down to their underwear, Ronnie somehow felt more alone with Brandon. As if their nakedness completely confirmed it was just them. They were so close and alone-- Ronnie could have kissed Brandon right then. The Brandon who was staring back so intensely, pink lips agape, water droplets in his eyelashes, wavy hair slicked back, hazel eyes taking in the world so carefully. The Brandon who he was in love with again.

It was freeing to let go and accept that he still loved Brandon. It felt good to float around in the water, holding nothing back in his head. Though he knew accepting that would leave him with more to grapple with, it didn't matter because in that moment, it was just the two of them, in a lake, nothing separating them at all.


	9. Chapter 9

It snowed for the first time a month after Ronnie and Brandon swam together. Ronnie hadn't seen snow in years, so he just sat at his window gazing out at the white flakes drifting down onto the still-green grass. Usually, at that time, Brandon would text him to see if he was up for a hike, but instead, he got a text canceling.

Morning Ron! Have you looked outside? Too cold to do anything today, let's take a raincheck on this one.

As Ronnie planned his entire day to mope, he received another text from Brandon.

But this is no reason to not hang out, do you want to drop by and have some coffee? Don't worry about walking, I'll pick you up.

Going over to Brandon's house wasn't necessarily an uncommon occurrence for Ronnie, that's usually where he ended up after hikes, but as he gazed outside, something felt different.

He got dressed and waited in his living room, where he checked on the plant Brandon had given him and was surprisingly still alive and thriving. Ronnie watered it, concerned about the weather affecting it. He made a note to ask Brandon about it.

Brandon's house was filled with plants, mostly funky shaped succulents and cacti. Ronnie loved watching Brandon water them as he'd speak to them, or if Ronnie was lucky, he'd sing to them. As terrible as the band was for Brandon, he really did have a beautiful voice and Ronnie missed hearing it.

Soon after Ronnie watered his own plant, he saw Brandon's truck in front of his house. Quickly, he put away the cup for the water he was using and bolted outside.

"Could the peace lily die in the cold?" Ronnie asked almost immediately after hopping in Brandon's passenger seat.

Brandon blinked rapidly in surprise, having to think for a moment, "it could, yeah, just move it a little bit away from the window if it starts yellowing-- and you know humans can die in the cold too, right? You're a bit underdressed."

Ronnie was just in a hoodie, noticing that Brandon was right. Brandon reached over and squeezed Ronnie's shoulder, "I can lend you a coat, no worries, peace Ronnie."

They shared clothes all time, especially when they were in the band. Being the same size most of the time, it was convenient-- and Ronnie never minded smelling a bit like Brandon. 

It was the shoulder squeeze and "peace Ronnie" comment that made Ronnie's heart jump the most. Ever since the swim together, Brandon had been much more physically affectionate and overall soft, which Ronnie couldn't complain about, it just made him fall more achingly in love with Brandon.

The drive was short yet somewhat tumultuous due to the ever-growing accumulation of snow. Brandon didn't seem to notice at all and simply exclaimed, "here!" When they arrived.

"Jesus, this doesn't jar you at least a little bit?" Ronnie asked.

"What?"

"The snow! You can't even see."

Brandon shrugged and turned off his truck, "I'm used to it. It gets worse actually-- and with a coat, I should probably teach you how to drive in the snow."

They both got out and scurried into Brandon's house, where Ronnie noticed that his fireplace was on for the first time. "I don't even know if my fireplace works," he commented.

"Oh man, I can check that out for you, this is just the first snow anyway, won't be too bad," Brandon hummed.

"Sorry, I'm so useless in the cold."

"I understand, I remember when I moved here from Vegas, I was also a mess when it first started getting cold."

Ronnie took a seat at his usual spot at Brandon's kitchen table. It faced where all Brandon's stuff was so Ronnie could see him if he was doing something, usually either cooking or making coffee. Ronnie felt crazy taking such enjoyment in watching such mundane activities. Even at the moment, after watching Brandon make them both coffee so many times, he felt a rush.

"I'm gonna get you a new coffee maker for Christmas," Ronnie commented. He had noticed the first time he was over that Brandon still had the coffee maker from his old apartment in Vegas. It was one of the only appliances Brandon had back in the day, and it would look Ronnie right in the face when he would drop Brandon off for the excruciating two week breaks they were given. Ronnie felt near jealously towards the coffee maker -- and now it was paying him back, it seemed.

"Why fix it if it ain't broke?" Brandon shrugged, scooping the coffee into the paper filter that rest in the poor thing.

"It ain't broke but it's on it's last coffee bean."

The coffee maker screamed as Brandon flicked it on, if coffee could drip out painfully, that's what it did. Brandon chuckled, "okay, maybe you're right, but I'm not letting you buy it."

Ronnie rolled his eyes, "shouldn't've told you then."

Brandon snickered once again as he grabbed their two mugs. He poured one cup and slid it in front of Ronnie, "drink up."

"Thank you, Flowers."

"Mhmm." Brandon grabbed creamer out of the fridge and then his jar of sugar. Ronnie resisted the urge to make any, "want some coffee with that cream and sugar?" jokes, he figured he maxed out on that remark. Brandon was probably the only person Ronnie could ever meet and could get away with the way he made his coffee. Why even bother drinking coffee if it's made with that much cream? It didn't matter, Ronnie figured maybe Brandon was made of sugar and creamer.

Brandon sat down and took a sip, "hits the spot doesn't it?"

Ronnie grinned, he couldn't resist, "yeah, I'm sure your creamer is delicious."

Brandon scoffed and rolled his eyes before grinning again, "it's pumpkin spice! Finally that time of year again."

"That time of year? Feels like we skipped and went straight to winter."

"Yeah, it's like that here."

Brandon sipped his coffee again, tipping on his chair. It was fun for Ronnie to pick up on new habits Brandon had, but that one in particular scared him a little. Ronnie didn't know if he was in a position to laugh or to panic if Brandon fell over. He would have panicked in the past, but Brandon was less fragile and so were they.

Brandon tipped forward, returning back to safety, "shit, I hope they get the power situation fixed this time around, last year it went out every other storm."

"Jesus, what a disaster."

"Yeah, you could say that again, pipes freezing and bursting, I was lucky-- others though..."


	10. Chapter 10

Many cups of coffee and worse, heavier snowstorms later, Ronnie found that they indeed did not fix the power situation. Oddly, Ronnie was spending a rare day alone, simply watching T.V. when a single click and complete darkness happened. 

"Shit," he simply grumbled in the darkness. He felt especially shitty considering he had been too lazy to go to the store and pick up some firewood for the fireplace Brandon had oh so graciously fixed weeks previously. Luckily though, almost immediately Ronnie received a text from Brandon. 

Hey, is your power out too?

Ronnie responded with a disgruntled, "yup," to which he got, Hell, do you wanna come over? Made dinner. Thank God for gas stoves, in response.

Brandon didn't have to tell him twice.

There's a catch! You gotta drive over here. Get some use out of that four-wheel drive.

Ronnie groaned at his phone before quickly grabbing his keys. He decided he truly hated driving in the snow, no matter how many times Brandon himself forced him to do it, he hated it with a burning passion. "I don't like it either!" Brandon claimed. "It's just, what's the point of having a truck if you're not going to use one of its key functions?" Ronnie supposed Brandon was right, he did have a newer, better truck than him, after all, so he felt bad having Brandon drive him everywhere. 

Shivering, Ronnie hopped into his truck and turned it on, letting it run for a while before aggressively pulling out of his driveway. The last time he did it gently, he got stuck and Brandon had to pull him out of his own driveway-- one of the top ten most embarrassing things to happen to Ronnie.

Once Ronnie shook the intensity of getting out of his driveway, he headed towards Brandon's house, where he arrived in less than two minutes. In any other situation, he would have walked such a distance, snowstorm or not, but he knew it would make Brandon worry about him. Which was a strange feeling, to have someone he once spent most of his time worrying about return the feeling. It was like Brandon was taking care of him too, which Ronnie had no idea what to do with.

Ronnie simply strolled into Brandon's house. On top of all the other strangeness, the culture shock in Utah was added. Brandon left his front door unlocked all the time and didn't think twice about it. "Who's gonna break-in? It's cold and I know half the town," Brandon would argue. Though Ronnie trusted Brandon, he still left his door locked at all times.

"Oh, cozy," Ronnie commented, kicking the stomping the snow off his boots.

Brandon jumped in response, "Jesus, Ron, you scared me there." He had been reading a book close to the light of the fire, though Ronnie could make out the title in the low light.

"You read?" Ronnie questioned.

"I do! We've been over this."

They had been, but Ronnie was still surprised. All Brandon did in the band was do drugs, get drunk, sing, and make Ronnie cry. "I've just never seen it in action," Ronnie spoke with a smirk, "I honestly didn't know you could read at all."

"You're so mean, Ronnie," Brandon whimpered, jokingly presumably, but a hint of real hurt in his voice.

Ronnie pouted, "sorry, sorry, I know you can read and that you read well, I've seen your writing." He stripped off his coat and walked over to Brandon, squatting next to him on the floor.

Brandon looked up from his book, "come closer, I don't bite."

Ronnie looked up into Brandon's eyes, thought, and then sighed. He pushed himself over and sat shoulder to shoulder with Brandon, feeling the heat from both the fire and the man himself.

"What are you reading?"

"East of Eden."

"Ah -- nope, never read it."

"It's by John--"

"Steinbeck, I know, I graduated high school too, Brandon."

Brandon smirked at him, "I don't know, Vannucci, maybe your bullying was just a result of you not being able to read yourself."

"Oh, I read, Brandon, I'll have you know I graduated college."

"Yeah, with an art degree."

"Um, you have to read getting no matter what field you're in, you wouldn't know that."

Brandon marked his place and put the book down, "yeah, and I kind of-- regret it a little."

"You do? What's there to regret."

"I feel like I missed out on something! Most kids spend their 20s at a school and I spent it hooked on coke."

"Oh, I think the kids at the schools are also hooked on coke."

Brandon laughed and brought his knees to his chest. "Oh man, I can't tell you how much I missed you, Ronnie. This house would have been so much colder and darker without you, it was hell getting through these power outages alone."

"Well, now you have a buddy whether you like it or not." Ronnie was getting a little too comfortable with pretending he wasn't in love with Brandon.

"I've got soup in the kitchen if you want some, I already ate, so help yourself."

Ronnie just wanted to spend all his time right there beside Brandon, but he supposed some soup to cover up his suspiciousness wouldn't hurt, so he got up, and went to the kitchen.

He found that it was already getting far colder than it typically was in Brandon's house as he served himself the chicken noodle soup that sat on the stove. There was no way Ronnie would have survived such an experience on his own, without Brandon he would have been shivering in his bed, truck buried in the snow.

He walked back out in the living room and took his place next to Brandon again.

"Is it good?" Brandon asked curiously as Ronnie took a bite.

Ronnie nodded, mumbling out an "Mhmm."

"I'm glad, it's my dad's recipe."

Ronnie could have married Brandon on the spot. It really was good. Good to have a home-cooked, warm meal, made by the man he was in love with-- and just generally very good.

"You're staying here, by the way," Brandon said, as he stared out his window, "I don't want you going home in this, power on or off."

"C'mon now, Brandon, it's only three blocks."

"Only three blocks! In these conditions, that's 80 miles."

Ronnie chuckled, "okay, Brandon." He wasn't going to argue with such a proposal. 

****

By the time the sun had set and everything was completely dark except for the glow of the fireplace, they explored talking points from Steinbeck to their time in the band. Mostly little anecdotes about how they would usually be as close as they were right then on the bus or in the hotel rooms they shared. It was so nice that Ronnie had nearly forgotten Brandon didn't know he was in love with him.

"I'm tired," Brandon yawned, stretching out his arms at around nine.

"Already? Old man," Ronnie scoffed, also feeling a little tired.

"Let's hit the hay, I'll grab my two sleeping bags and some blankets and we can just sleep out here by the fire until the power comes back on."

"Oh shit, yeah, it's still out, I haven't even noticed."

Brandon sighed getting up, "yeah, I just hope nobody's pipes have burst."

Ronnie suddenly thought of his absolutely unheated home. He pushed that away as soon as Brandon came back with what he said he was grabbing and helped him. 

"I haven't slept in a sleeping bag in a while," Ronnie spoke as they finished setting up. "I know my back is gonna be killing me tomorrow."

Brandon laughed, "mine too, oh well, at least we're warm."

Ronnie noticed the sizable gap between their bags as Brandon stood above his. "Oh shoot, do you want some clothes to change into? It'd be evil of me to make you sleep in jeans."

"Yes, I would love some."

The gap seemed counterintuitive.

****

The t-shirt Ronnie was wearing smelt so much of Brandon it nearly drove him crazy that Brandon seemed so far away. Brandon remained unbothered, having fallen asleep earlier than Ronnie with his back turned to him. He just wanted to reach out and touch Brandon's back as it expanded in his breathing, just to physically feel themselves existing together.

Instead, Ronnie rolled onto his back and stared into the fire, trying to gain the warmth he was missing. He and Brandon were closer than ever, so why did he always feel so empty with Brandon more out of reach than ever?

His teeth started to chatter together -- so maybe it wasn't his emotional yearning that made him so cold. He spot Brandon looking over his shoulder with an eyebrow raised and before he could tell him to go back to sleep, Brandon sleepily mumbled, "you still cold, Ron?"

Thinking Brandon would get up and grab more blankets, Ronnie began his argument, but against Ronnie's expectations, Brandon wiggled himself, his sleeping bag and blankets over against Ronnie. "There," he murmured again, body completely pressed against Ronnie, head gently rested on his shoulder.

Ronnie couldn't tell if it was his embarrassment that warmed him once again or Brandon himself. All he wanted to do was reach his arm opposite to Brandon over and finally receive the softness Brandon's hair offered-- but instead he sat completely, perfectly still.


	11. Chapter 11

Ronnie awoke in the same stiff position he had eventually fallen asleep in, afraid to move as Brandon had no problem making himself comfortable on Ronnie. His arms reached out around him in a hug and his head rest on his stomach. It seemed he had attempted to wrap a leg around Ronnie but his sleeping bag had prevented him.

Ronnie took a deep breath and closed his eyes again, calming himself down and trying to enjoy the feeling of Brandon's warmth. He opened his eyes again, this time registering that the power had turned back on sometime while they were sleeping as Brandon's heater was going. 

Ronnie felt movement and darted his eyes down, Brandon had began to stir and right as when Ronnie least expected it, he bolted up with a snort. "Whoa!" He exclaimed, holding his hands in front of him.

Brandon rubbed his eyes before blinking at Ronnie, "M'sorry, didn't mean to scare you." It hit Ronnie all at once how much he missed Brandon's low, rocky morning voice. 

"You're good," Ronnie spoke softly.

"And--um-- sorry for invading your personal space."

"That's okay too."

"It was just so cold last night and you're so-- warm."

"I can't say it was totally selfish of you, I was shivering last night."

Brandon smiled at Ronnie and stretched, "well, at least we don't have to do that tonight, power's back on." He stood up and already Ronnie missed the closeness. Ronnie watched Brandon as he stood in front of his window, "oh shit," he said, "we're snowed in."

Ronnie furrowed his eyebrows before walking over to Brandon, and sure enough, at least four feet of snow rest as far as Ronnie could see. "Looks like you're staying for a few," Brandon shrugged.

No matter what Ronnie replied, he couldn't be happier.

****

Ronnie sat at Brandon's porch with a cup of coffee watching Brandon shovel the snow away from his firewood. Ronnie had offered his assistance multiple times but Brandon declined every time. As bad as Ronnie felt, he couldn't complain, watching Brandon exert himself in such a way, barely breaking a sweat? A piece of sexuality Ronnie was glad to explore.

He gripped his mug tightly as Brandon shimmied his jacket off, revealing the black thermal shirt he was wearing underneath. "You sure you don't want any help?" Ronnie coughed. 

"Yeah, I'm alright, Ron, thanks," Brandon breathed, stepping up to the porch and tossing his jacket aside before reaching for the axe that laid against the foundation. Ronnie gripped his cup as Brandon returned to the woods and began splitting it. Brandon exerting his body in such ways he couldn't a decade ago always surprised Ronnie, on their few camping trips Ronnie typically was the one who chopped wood, Brandon had always been too exhausted. Now, the same man needed no help at all, barely breaking a sweat.

"Do you mind holding the door open for me?" Brandon huffed, gathering the wood in his arms.

"Course," Ronnie grabbed the door with no hesitation.

Brandon shuffled in and Ronnie followed in after. He watched as Brandon stumbled back to his fireplace where their sleeping set up still rested and dumped the wood next to it. Brandon looked at the sleeping bags, "you mind staying over again tonight? I don't want you to have to deal with getting out of here."

"I don't mind at all-- as long as you don't."

"I never mind company, though as long as things don't get bad again out there and the power doesn't go out, we don't have to sleep on the floor again."

"Oh yeah, I can sleep on the couch--"

"Um, you don't have to do that either, y-you can sleep in my bed-- I certainly don't mind, we used to share beds all the time."

Ronnie gripped his coffee cup tightly again, "sure, as long as you really don't mind."

"Nope, not at all!"

****

"The sun sets so early these days," Brandon commented as he and Ronnie sat on his porch, as they had been the whole day. "It's barely five."

"I know, I miss being out in the sun with you," Ronnie sighed. There was a long pause before Ronnie realized how strange what he had said was.

"I miss that too," Brandon finally replied, "but I like being inside with you too."

That would be the first time Ronnie felt there was mutual tension. The air felt so still as well as themselves and stillness stayed as Ronnie fought for words to break it, until finally, Brandon cleared his throat, "I think I'm gonna start dinner."

"Sounds good," Ronnie managed to speak, watching Brandon go back inside the house.

What am I doing? He thought.

****

"Hope you don't mind having the same thing," Brandon said as Ronnie finally entered the house again. "I don't have a very wide array of recipes and I've been craving it again."

"I don't mind at all, I loved it-- but I'd have to make you a meal one day," Ronnie responded taking his seat at Brandon's table.

"I'd like that." He scooped the finished soup into a bowl and placed it in front of Ronnie with a spoon before serving himself. 

Ronnie swirled his spoon around in the bowl, thinking about the moment between them that had happened minutes prior.

"Everything okay, Ron?" Brandon asked as he sat in front of him.

"Oh yeah," Ronnie quickly replied, shoving a spoonful of soup in his mouth.

"Just as good as last night, I hope?" Brandon chuckled placing his spoon in his own bowl.

"Mhmm," Ronnie nodded, mumbling around the spoonful.

"Good to hear."

****

Any ounce of awkwardness that lingered had finally left them after they ate and laid in the spot they left from the previous night. Ronnie tried not to focus on how connected his soul felt to Brandon. It was as if no matter how many awkward moments happened, no matter how many years of not speaking passed, they were always going to be able to lay on the ground with each other and just talk for hours.  
This was a bizarre concept to Ronnie because-- if sexuality designed them never to be lovers, how would that explain the he felt they were soulmates? 

Ronnie needed to be quick to wave those thoughts away otherwise he would miss his chance to cleverly respond to what Brandon had to say. Aside from the deep connection Ronnie was feeling and making, at the core of it all, he just loved filling the air with Brandon's laugh. He found that it was easier to make him laugh than it was years before. When they were younger, Brandon seemed so soulless that to hear him laugh was a gift, not that Ronnie wanted that anymore. Now Brandon had different ranges of laughing, giggles, chuckles, big laughs, and silent-wheezy laughs. Ronnie loved them all so much individually, but as much as his favorite was when the room filled with the sound of his laugh, Ronnie was especially fond of how Brandon physically beamed sunlight when his laughs turned silent. 

Ronnie was experiencing such when he casually realized they were soulmates. Frankly shocked that he was the cause of such an effect. He couldn't even remember what he said initially.

"Oh man, I missed your humor so much," Brandon breathed out, calming down, wiping tears from his eyes, "even T.V. doesn't cut it."

Ronnie grinned, "I missed making you laugh," he spoke quietly, but not entirely inaudible-- and maybe it should have been, because the same stillness that occurred outside washed over them once again. Ronnie blushed as he began to fear that maybe their words weren't as intertwined as he thought, or maybe even worse, maybe something he'd do could break that soul connection.

Brandon was quick to jumble something out again, as if he knew the silence was making Ronnie upset, "sorry, Ron, I'm just tired, you know, old-man-syndrome."

"Yeah, I get you," Ronnie chuckled out, attempting to hide the hurt his own brain was causing him, "you head off to bed, I'lo be out here."

"No, it's cold out here, come sleep with me."

"Are you sure, I'll be fine out here--"

Brandon reached out and grabbed Ronnie's arm, giving him a squeeze so much more powerful than any stillness they experienced, "no, it's cold."


	12. Chapter 12

Ronnie and Brandon slept on complete opposite sides of the same bed. It was as though no matter how hard they had tried to shake it, the stillness followed them. So, when Brandon tried to get rid of it again, Ronnie nearly jumped clear out of his skin. 

Brandon had migrated to Ronnie's end of the bed, "Hey," he spoke and Ronnie could feel his breath on his neck.

"Yeah?" Ronnie mumbled back, pretending to be half asleep.

"Remember when the people on tour would accidentally book a room with one bed for us and we would have to share a bed?" 

"Oh yeah, weird how that never happened to Dave and Mark."

"Well-- we would always volunteer to take it."

"Oh right!" Ronnie had to really ham up his responses if he didn't want the awkward stillness to enter the room again.

"I was a clingy little shit back then-- especially when we were in a city that was cold, I wasn't used to that at all-- I would force you to, um, warm me up."

Ronnie thought it was strange that Brandon would bring up how they used to cuddle, especially in their current situation, but he wasn't going to complain or even resume the heterosexual role he had been. "I remember."

"Ronnie..."

"Yes Brandon?"

"I'm cold."

Ronnie slowly rolled over and he could faintly see Brandon stare back at him in the darkness. He sighed and let go of whatever was holding him back just to pull Brandon into his arms who nuzzled his head into his shoulder. This was a feeling so familiar and comforting to Ronnie that if it were up to him he'd probably never let go.

"I missed this," Brandon whispered, "it's always so cold here."

Ronnie simply hugged him tighter in fear that something he'd say would scare Brandon out of his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut, he could have cried he missed Brandon so much, now there he was in his arms again as if the ten years of his absence never happened. "I missed you too," he shakily breathed, "always have."

Brandon carefully intertwined their legs together and as overwhelming as it all was for Ronnie, it felt so incredibly right, as though they were designed to be intertwined in that bed as such.

Soon Brandon was letting out breaths of sleep and Ronnie was asking God, the universe, or anyone at all why he would be both cursed and blessed by finding who he was meant to be intertwined with but never knowing if it could get past that.

****

Ronnie awoke Brandon gone from where he had been. All Ronnie could do was inhale deeply as the feeling of wanting more from Brandon settled into his chest again. He noticed that the sun was streaming into the room, meaning that the snow was melting, meaning he had to go home. With this in mind, he smelt coffee, so he knew there was still time to be bought.

He walked out into the kitchen where Brandon sat drinking his coffee, a cup sitting at Ronnie's usual seat. Ronnie quietly took his place, careful not to ruin the fragile air between them. Was the air fragile? Did sleeping as they did make it awkward between them?

"Good morning, Ron," Brandon spoke softly after taking a sip of his coffee, clasping both hands around the mug still.

Ronnie attempted to speak casually, "mornin'."

"It's nicer today, you're probably able to go home."

As much as it hurt to, Ronnie played along, "yeah, I should probably check on things over there after this."

"I-um-I washed the clothes you were wearing when you got here, I hope you don't mind-- so you don't have to take my clothes home."

A piece of Ronnie wanted to scream, why do you want to rip every piece of yourself from me? He knew it was irrational, so he took a pause to drink before speaking again. "No, I don't mind at all, thanks for doing that."

The rest of the coffee was drunk in silence. Ronnie even stared down at his empty cup for awhile waiting for Brandon to say something, but he said nothing.

"Well, thanks for the coffee," Ronnie spoke, masking the pain, standing from the table.

"Of course," Brandon responded, following Brandon out to his living room, where his clothes sat neatly folded on his couch.

Ronnie grabbed the stack, "Just gonna change into this and I'll be on my way," 

"Alright, just set the ones you're wearing out here."

Ronnie made his way to the bathroom where he reluctantly removed the clothes that still had Brandon lingering all over them. He inhaled his own clothes to make sure Brandon's scent wasn't just his laundry-- it wasn't. So, he took a minute to collect himself. Surely he was going to come over again soon, so why did it hurt so much to leave?

Ronnie took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom back to the living room, where Brandon sat, reading the book he had been the initial day. 

"Okay, well, the clothes are gonna be right here," Ronnie spoke, setting the clothes where his own had been.

"Thanks, Ronnie," Brandon said, peering over his book.

"No, thank you-- see you soon?"

"Of course." 

"Great, bye then."

"See ya', Ron."

****

Thankfully, Ronnie's house was still where he left it and functional. He had expected it to be covered in water from a burst pipe, but instead, the heating system was working and everything seemed fine. Which relieved Ronnie, as if his fear had come true, he would have just collapsed.

The only thing that seemed out of place was the Peace Lily. Its leaves had completely drooped over as a result of dehydration. Ronnie quickly went over to his kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it with water before returning to the plant and pouring it into its dirt. As he did this, he had an awful realization. He and Brandon were only three blocks away and closest than ever the night before, but that morning, he never felt further from Brandon.


	13. Chapter 13

After that morning, three days passed without a word from Brandon. Ronnie tried not to take it personally, but it was difficult to given how the night before went. He spent the three days doing practically nothing, it was a wonder he was even able to get out of bed.

Ronnie was embarrassed by how much he needed Brandon. As much as he tried to function without a single sign he was still around, he just couldn't go back to living like that. So when he finally received a text from Brandon mid-fourth-day saying he was sick, Ronnie had never been more excited about such bad news.

_Caught a pretty bad cold! Sorry for not texting or calling. Probably shouldn't come around for another couple days._

Ronnie did a full victory lap around his house before responding,

_No worries! Take care of yourself._

The victory lap was taken too soon as that conversation would be their last far more than the couple of days Brandon claimed.

****

Ronnie really didn't want to be needy, but at the ten-day mark, even washing the dishes hurt to do. He was calling Mark every single day at that point, more than he had since the band split up. In fact, he might have called more then than when they were _in_ the band.

When night rolled around, Ronnie finally caved and decided to stop putting Mark through such hell and texted Brandon.

_Hey! Are you alright?_

Surprisingly, the reply came quick,

_No, still sick._

Ronnie frowned at his phone. That didn't seem right.

_Really? Can I come over and cook you something?_

The dots that signaled Brandon's typing appeared and disappeared for a moment before a text that Ronnie was certainly going to ignore no matter the contents came up.

_No, that's okay, thank you anyway, Ron. Don't want you to catch what I have._

Ronnie was already in his truck before the notification could ping for a second time. The weather had been surprisingly nice in the past week, making Ronnie question why he didn't just do what he was doing earlier.

Though he may have done some speeding, he made it to Brandon's house in record time. He ignored all the feelings that told him that Brandon was going to hate him for what he was doing and simply walked through Brandon's front door like he owned the place.

The first thing Ronnie noticed was that Brandon was wearing the shirt he had when he was staying over, but he ignored it. The second was that Brandon was definitely not sick.

"Holy hell, Ron, you scared me!" Brandon yelped, after dropping the book he was reading. "It's like nine o'clock, I thought you were a murderer!"

As much as Ronnie wanted to start pestering Brandon to explain himself, he knew that he couldn't because this lie meant there was something wrong. "Come get in my truck with me."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it."

As much as Ronnie wanted to be pissed at Brandon, he couldn't be. Just like in the old days, Brandon still made the same scowl everyone hated but Ronnie loved when being forced to do something he didn't want to. Maybe it was that he taught himself to love every piece of Brandon no matter how toxic the trait was because that was all there was--

or maybe it was just cute.

When they both got in the truck, Ronnie decided that he wasn't going to let whatever cloud of stillness grab a hold of them again. This wasn't really the first time Brandon tried to rip himself away from Ronnie, it was just the first time he did it subtly. When they were in the band together, Brandon was much more aggressive about not wanting Ronnie around. Yet, even if Brandon was screaming his lungs out at Ronnie, everything could usually be solved by a drive around town, especially if they were home working on music. If Ronnie wasn't able to bring comfort to Brandon, at least the Vegas lights could.

As they both sat in silence, Ronnie realized that he spent so much time focusing on what hadn't changed about Brandon that when something was different, he didn't know what to do, and the way that Brandon was staying completely silent when clearing something was wrong was very different. He needed to care for the Brandon that existed 10 years from the Brandon he knew and was sitting right next to him.

"Do you remember how we used to drive around the strip?" Ronnie exhaled nervously trying not to notice how dark and unlit the Utah roads in front of them were. A complete contrast from how they were in the Vegas region.

"Yeah, of course," Brandon responded, head resting bored against his window.

Ronnie had to mention it because while such a drive calmed Brandon down, it also reminded Ronnie why he even stuck by Brandon so loyally and in love. The glamour of Vegas had died on Ronnie after awhile, but it never seemed to die on Brandon. Even during the last couple of times they drove around together when the band was taking a turn for the worst, all of the neon reflected so beautifully in Brandon's eyes. When Ronnie looked over at him, he could still see the gleam and hope present right there.

"I miss it sometimes," Brandon continued softly. "I love it here, but nothing beats that feeling, ya' know?"

Ronnie nodded, "I know."

"I miss looking up at the Caesar's Palace sign, Paris, the fountains, I miss seeing it all at once and feeling it all at once. I used to think it was just how bright the lights were."

"Used to?"

"Well, part of it is the lights and everything, I do miss how pretty it all was, but mainly-- never mind, it's stupid, you'll think it's stupid."

"Please, Brandon, you know I won't."

Brandon sighed, "it's just-- it ain't the lights anymore, I don't think."

"Well, what is it then, Brandon?"

Brandon sat up and stared forward the windshield for a moment, "it's that we're here, not a single neon light for thousands of miles, hell, not a single light for miles, yet-- I'm getting the same feeling."

Ronnie's heart hammered in his chest. He thought he knew what Brandon meant, but he didn't want to jump the gun in case he was wrong.

"Ronnie, when we were away for so long when we were touring and we would drive around just like this, it didn't matter if we were on the strip, it always felt the same, like I could finally calm down and breathe, like I was safe-- like you were a piece of the strip I could always count on to bring me home."

Ronnie wanted to veer the truck into a ditch just to kiss Brandon. He couldn't find a single word to match what had just been spoken. In all the years he had loved Brandon, it was that small anecdote that nearly pushed him over. If he had spent any less than the ten years he did hiding the way he felt, he would have torn through and just kissed him. Yet, those ten years were still there.

Before Ronnie could speak, Brandon had something else to say, "I'm sorry I disappeared for a few days, living alone for so long and not really getting in contact with people, I get in my head sometimes. Just know that no matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend-- whether we're in a tour bus in the middle of nowhere, in Vegas, or here."


End file.
